


Home

by castielswinchesters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-14 00:09:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielswinchesters/pseuds/castielswinchesters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What is home, to an angel? What is home, to a hunter?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home

Home. 

It’s a word that doesn’t really have meaning to Dean Winchester - or maybe it has too much. Home is Sammy, the Impala, the open road. Home was Mom, and Dad, a kitchen that smelled of apple pie and a place where he was safe. Safety doesn’t exist. It’s a lesson he learned the hard way, when his safe haven went up in flames, taking his mother and his sense of security with it. 

There is no such thing as home, he tells himself. Unless it’s with Sammy. 

So he is content, on the open road, in motel rooms, on couches, in a dilapidated, abandoned house. So long as he has his brother by his side, he is home. 

Until he doesn’t have Sammy any longer. Until he watches his brother fall into a pit to save the world and stop the Apocalypse. 

What is home to him then? The house he shares with Lisa and Ben? No house can fill the hole Sam left when he was ripped from his life. And then Sammy’s back, a miracle, but it isn’t the same. 

Purgatory. A place where he feels clean, whole again. He’s at home there, at ease with himself for the first time in forever. 

Home. 

A garrison, full of family. Brothers who laugh and tease, sisters who love him. A Father distant and unreachable. Home is the peace Castiel feels when he receives revelation, home is the fierce joy of battle as a warrior of the Lord. 

Home is the heavens, the cold blackness of space interspersed with brilliant celestial beacons, guiding him always back to the place where he belongs. Home is watching over the humans his father so loves, protecting them as he was created to do. Home is having a purpose. 

And then that is gone, and what does he have left? An angel, fallen, stripped of what he cherished most. Home does not exist, not for ones such as him. But he remembers words that changed his life. 

“Hello, Dean.” 

This is home, this hunter with the green eyes that flash, change, and shine like heavenly aurorae and the freckles that dot his face in the same way stars dot the heavens. 

Dean is a certain man. He is deliberate in his actions, and he does not allow himself to falter. So it comes as a shock to him to realize that, for the first time in what feels like forever, he has a place to call home. And it is this: 

Home. 

When Dean’s lips brush Castiel’s for the first time, it is as if he is hearing the music of the solar winds again. As hands caress the rough skin of his jaw, tracing the line, a thumb mapping the planes of his face, he feels as though he is soaring through a galaxy, faster than a thought. 

Dean is home. He’s known that for awhile now. And he is a home that Castiel intends to explore. He will chart the cartography of Dean, name the freckles that dust his features, commit them to memory the way he knew the name of every star. The universe that is Dean Winchester, a universe for Castiel alone. 

When wings as soft and gentle as the quilt his mother sewed wrap around him, Dean knows it too. He is safe, and he is loved. And that says home more than anything else ever could. So he presses his lips to those of his angel, and he makes himself a promise. He will not forget home again. 

This is home. 

And it is where they belong.


End file.
